


Grey

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Series: 250 word stories about sasha having friends [7]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (sort of. belatedly), AroAceing the Line (Rusty Quill Gaming), Forgiveness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Ocean, Post-Rome Arc (Rusty Quill Gaming), Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29795931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: Sasha goes to the sea.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Series: 250 word stories about sasha having friends [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980898
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Grey

**Author's Note:**

> So this is kind of spiritually part of the aroaceing the line event, because I'm a bit late (the latter half of the week did not cooperate lol) but I absolutely adored the event, and everyone who wrote, and read, and thank you mods, so so much.  
>  **Family - Friends** \- Magic - **Grey**
> 
> That feel when you meet someone and you're both queer and neurodivergent and you bond super hard but then things get rough and you lose touch and then you get yeeted back to ancient rome, amirite?
> 
> Also, that feel when you pass out for an hour after class and then lie on the couch and the only self-care thing you can think of is writing 250 words about Sasha, yeah yeah?

Sasha goes to the sea. 

It's a grey day when she arrives. Grey but not raining, and even these choppy waves are calmer than the last time she'd been on a boat.

The salt smell is the same.

"Hey," she says. "I, uh, I don't forgive easy, y'know Zolf? Plenty of people I haven't forgiven, even if they were a bit useful later."

A stone, old and smooth and heavy in her hand, disappears where she throws it at the waves.

"I forgive you, though. You're worth forgiving."

She's not sure how to say it so he'll understand. What she'd appraised in the lines in his face, his hand on her back as she rode, dizzy, out of London, strong arms around her shoulders when she'd carried him through Paris. A kinda  _ sameness  _ between them she still can't identify.

"I'm gonna name a kid after you," she tells the waves, flipping a knife. "You ever think I'd have kids? Cause I didn't. Don't know what to do with 'em, really." 

"I'm glad it was you," she says later, kicking the sand. "To put my guts back in. Even if I did kinda turn into a zombie later. It's like… company, y'know?" She could use the company.

Later still, she sits like her own gargoyle on the edge of a cliff, dangles her legs toward the sea. It was good to come. Settled something that'd been out of alignment for a while. "Cheers, Zolf."

That, at least, she thinks he'd understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought. 
> 
> I can also be found on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores and twitter as @beardspores.


End file.
